


All of your pieces

by FrejaStahl



Category: Andrew Belle, Andrew Belle - Pieces, Lyrics - Fandom, Music - Fandom, Pieces - Fandom, Songs - Fandom, song - Fandom
Genre: Inspired by Music, Music, Pieces, Song Lyrics, Songs, andrew belle - Freeform, andrew belle - pieces - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:13:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14279730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrejaStahl/pseuds/FrejaStahl
Summary: Based on "Pieces" by Andrew Belle, which is a gorgeous song...I interpreted it as a loss song rather than a love song as he actually made for his wife as a gift for her. Maybe it's a love/loss song?  I love his work, though! I hope you like this.  I have been meaning to write something for a while...just a short one for now :)





	All of your pieces

Sat in a room surrounded by all these people and the feeling of being totally isolated, no matter how many hugs are being passed around, or how many hands are pressed on my shoulder as a sign of their presence. It won't be easy having just dealt with the service, no matter how "beautiful" it might have been. The feeling of numbness hasn't left me since that time, even though I have your watch around my wrist - I hold it in place just like when you were around- your ring around my neck. I wear your aftershave at night to help me sleep a little better, you know. I kind of need that right now, but how do I tell these people to get out? It has been weeks but I haven't been able to do much since. I'm over talking to people, I don't want to let anything "out". I'm scared about what is going to happen if I ever do, what happens afterwards though? Will I slowly begin to forget you? I can't and won't let that happen.

Shit, someone is coming over again. I know they're trying to be nice, but all I want is for them to fuck off. I need to be alone. I have all my thoughts of you and us, and I can't get lost in them if nobodies like them keep trying to be sympathetic towards me. They don't know what we had. Have. I'm staring at this person - I can't entirely tell if they're a man or a woman anymore. In all the black cloth and subdued sickly flowery perfumes they've all amalgamated into one big cloud, tinkering about in the teacups and sandwiches swimming around the furniture trying to keep up appearances. I feel suffocated. My thoughts drift back to you and I realise my frown turns into a little bit of a smile as I know exactly what you would say if you were stood right here. "Get out of here shall we? I know how you hate the pretence of niceties. Ice-cream?", "Yeah!" and I've already responded out loud before I realise I even made a sound.

Cut back to the room full of people who barely knew us. Know us. The person looks a little disturbed at my response to who cares what their question was. To them you're gone, to me I see it as ok a problem - now where are you to help us get out of this little rut? You were always better at solving the problems that I was always so amazing at pointing out. My little problem solver. Our team was pretty amazing. Is amazing. I lose my smile again and I'm back to staring at the cloud of nobodies clustered in our home.

I know I wasn't always the best at telling you what was going on in my head, and I wish I had told you more times when you were near. I never was one for putting into words what I felt and the fact you had to drag a lot out of me made you all the more special. I wish I told you more when you could hear me. I know you can hear me still, because even though...

"There's too much smoke to see this, there's too much broke to feel this, I love you, I love you. And all of your pieces".


End file.
